Page 44 of Vex

“Who’s a pretty kitty?” I murmur.

“Meow.”

“Can I pet you?”

“Meow.”

I take that as a yes, even though I don’t speak cat, and slowly run my finger down the back of his head. I don’t get attacked or bitten, so I bravely start petting him from head to tail. When I hear his motor start purring, I prop half my ass onto the bed next to him and continue stroking. He stretches out and before long I feel a paw land on my thigh. I realize he’s not so much an angry cat as he just wants things his way as soon as he wants them. Typical cat but he has a lot more weight to throw around than most. The fat bastard falls asleep, snoring and all, while leaning against my leg. I lean back against the wall and get back to breakfast. When finished, I stretch out on my side, curl up with the cat and fall asleep.

I wake suddenly and bolt for the bathroom. I barely make it to the toilet before my breakfast reappears. As I’m hugging the toilet, the cat stands on his hind feet, placing his front paws on the toilet seat and stares at me. Nothing like having an audience at the worst time.

“Please, go away,” I mutter miserably.

“Meow.”

“Please. I’m begging you to leave,” I say as my stomach decides it’s time for round two.

“Meow.”

I hear knocking on the bedroom door, but I’m in no shape to answer it. My arms are shaky at this point, and I have sweat running off the tip of my nose. Round three commences.

“Taja? It’s Axel. I’m coming in,” I hear before the door opens and in walks Axel. He has a teal colored baby sling across his chest, but I don’t even have the energy to do a double take at the bizarre sight. I give a half wave and rest my head on my arm.

“I know all about this. I’ll be right back with ginger ale and some crackers,” Axel says softly before patting me once on the back.

“Oh God! Don’t mention food,” I whine.

“It’ll help. Trust me. I know all about morning sickness,” he explains.

“This isn’t morning sickness. This is stress,” I tell him, probably out of denial.

“Yeah, right. Whatever, the ginger ale will help. Need help back to the bed?”

“No thanks. I’m fine dying right here,” I groan as he gives a short chuckle and disappears.

“Meow.”

I slowly pull myself up, flush the toilet and lean against the vanity. Looking around, I see mouthwash and use it. I shakily make my way back to the bedroom and retrieve my toothbrush. After taking care of business in the bathroom, I hit the bed in relief. Just as I’m relaxing my muscles, the cat lands next to me and stretches out. I place a hand on his back and enjoy the softness of his fur.

“Yo!”

Turning my head, I see Mac standing next to the bed in all his glorious colors.

“Hi, Mac. How’re you?”

“Mac’s good. Mac’s a hottie. You got cashews?” Mac says in a too loud voice.

“No, sorry, Mac. No cashews,” I inform him.

He flutters himself onto the bed next to me and tilts his head comically while eyeing the cat.

“Don’t piss off the cat,” he warns me.

“What’s its name?”

“Duffy. Pretty kitty. Pretty kitty. Prettyyyyy kittyyyyyy,” Mac answers.

“You call him pretty kitty so he doesn’t eat you?” I ask not even realizing I’m carrying on a conversation with a bird.

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